My wonderful stainless teapot holds two cups of tea.  What a curse it is
sometimes.  But first...
 
It's a crapshoot.  Do I go to my computer and read about fuzzies going
to the bridge or do I watch the tsunami coverage on CNN?  Going to the
computer means that I would have to get up.  Argh.  Not just yet.
Tsunami it is.
 
The weasels are making noises in their cage.  They haven't been let out
yet.  I would, but I'm stuck on the sofa (which is also my bed most
nights).  My feet hurt.  The TV is still on from the night before, but
the sound is down.  The weasels are in their cage munching loudly and
pawing at the cage door.  Dammit, someone's floating by and I can't hear
it.  I grab the remote and turn up the TV.  I can no longer hear the
weasels over the din of CNN.  My wife should be coming by shortly to
let them out, hopefully.  I need my tea, after all.
 
My wife brings me my morning tea.  She has made me my morning pot of
McGrath's Irish tea as she usually does.  I make an obligatory attempt
at sitting up, but I'm really just slouching on my pillows.  I move the
pillows around and slouch a little straighter.  I put my cup to my mouth
and while I watch Sri Lanka float on by I take a sip of my tea.
 
Eventually I forget I'm drinking tea.  I slug it down so I don't have
to be bothered with holding the cup (I have that all important remote
control, you know).  Or maybe I put my cup down and forgot about my tea
altogether.  I watch someone else's life float on by.  Next thing I know
my tea's lukewarm.  Bah.  So I slug it down cold and pour my second cup
from the pot.  It's lukewarm as well.  Bah.  How did this happen?  I
don't have even a remote memory of my first pot of tea, except that I
need another one to replace it now.
 
So I replace it.  I'm not going to let that happen again.  I struggle to
get off the sofa and stumble out to the kitchen to make myself another
pot of tea.  I sludge back to the couch.  What an accomlishment.  I'm so
proud.
 
CNN has taken a break from the tsunami to go to the war in Iraq for a
bit.  My stomach burns as I pour molten tea down into it.  I'm not
letting the second cup go cold again.  This cup, my third already, isn't
exactly the morning treat I had envisioned.  It's more like a job now.
I'm going to have a proper pot of tea, by god.  I can, you know.  My
house isn't floating away and nobody's shooting at me.  I live in the
civilized world where they drink hot tea.
 
Bubbles and Scritch are playing in the beans.  I turn up the TV some more
so I can hear the bombing of Baghdad over pinto beans in a plastic tub.
Navi crawls up on my blanket and says howdy.  Jasper, Jaws, and Smokey
eventually crawl up the side of the sofa and root around in my blanket
for awhile.  They play chase with each other on my lap while I sip my
tea.  More people float on by as CNN goes back to the tsunami.
 
What a curse it is sometimes.  I just can't sit on my sofa - no TV no
computer no outside world - and just drink a cup of tea with myself.  I
need those dancing electrons to keep myself occupied.  I watch my weasels
give chase to each other while someone else loses another loan to Ditech.
I think that I should get off this sofa, get my digital camera out, and
turn my weasels into dancing electrons.  You can never have enough
dancing electrons, you know.
 
But I don't.  I go to my computer and read my emails while I drink my
third cup of cold tea.  More fuzzies going to the bridge.  Oh, geez.  I
sit in my comfy computer chair and sigh.  Most of my weasels are healthy
at the moment.  Even Puff, who is in the middle stages of insulinoma, is
doing OK.  Out in the living room I hear CNN's tsunami crashing into
something.  I don't know if it's the tsunami in Sri Lanka or the tsunami
in Indonesia making all that noise.  And right now I don't care because
it's drowning out my newest music download.  What idiot turned up the TV
so loud?
 
I go out to the living room to turn down the TV.  Navi has crawled up on
the couch and jumped over to the coffee table.  She noses open the lid of
my cold teapot.  I try to remember if I drank all my tea or not as I rush
to the coffee table.  I know what's coming next, but I can't get there in
time.  On CNN al-Zarqawi detonates a car bomb.  Boom.  My stainless-steel
teapot hits the floor.  Apparently I hadn't had my second cup.  I now
have my own personal tsunami.  Savages.  Navi is lapping the tsunami of
tea as fast as her little tongue will go.  I don't need a weasel on
caffeine.  Honey, do you know where the mop is?  Thanks, honey.  I
appreciate you doing that for me.  You bet.
 
I point the remote at the TV.  I go to my computer and my mind drifts
away to the sounds of singing electrons.  Life is good.  One by one,
some of the weasels find their own dark places to sleep.  CNN is on
mute.  All is not right with the world, but it's quieter.
 
Navi comes up to me to see if I'm still mad.  I pick her up.  She smells
the banana I ate in the kitchen on my hands and she wants some.  I put
her next to my face.  She licks the taste of banana off my lips for a
few seconds.  I peel another banana.  Weasels gather at my feet.
 
Life is good.  Yes.  I think that maybe I should make another pot of tea.
I could use a good hot cup of tea.  I've had a hard day.
[Posted in FML issue 4748]